I am sitting at my desk, it’s Friday dusk, at the end of the first week of the semester and I’m feelin like, damn the train has left the station and I am holding on for dear life. See y’all on the other side.
300 or so pages to read, a couple thousand words to write, projects to organize, dances to dance. And I’m here, procrastinating a tad in a self-reflective moment and cheering on my future self. I can do it. You can do it too (whatever it is that you need to do!)
For how much I love movement, I resist it, too. I want to know before I do or say. I want to do things right and well. I want to sound smart and have a good plan. I want to feel safe. I am afraid of losing myself. I am afraid I have nothing to offer.
This resistance to movement (shrinking, hiding, stalling) is uncomfortable. And yet, it can be so hard to move from it. There’s an impulse to stay, to cling, and figure out exactly what it is and what you need before moving forward. I wonder how this translates on personal and collective movements.
you are always in movement, dear.
I notice how my thinking has changed (is changing). It’s interesting - when I’m feeling well, I am not over analyzing myself as much. It’s when I’m less well that the self surveillance kicks into high gear. In a few recent conversations, I noticed afterwards- oh nice, I was pretty present with that person. cool, that feels good. I wasn't obsessing about how I was being perceived or how much of an imposter I feel like, or whatever other anxious habits I can hole up into.
The moving mind hones in, zooms out, is present with what’s in front of it, and associates with memories, feelings, ideas, possibilities. The moving mind notices when they are stuck and feels agency to shift. Something about neuroplasticity, something about staying flexible, something about staying light.
Like a hula hooper, feet on the ground, hips sensuously circling, knees and ankles soft, I gotta keep the mind engaged, moving with curiosity, circling around questions, ideas, purpose. My moving mind can rotate around a grounded, connected center. Stillness within, movement beyond. Maybe a thought spiral isn’t all bad. Maybe this is how meditation works.
I can cry and feel very confused about myself one moment, and just a bit later feel an eternal moment of peace and connection with myself and a new lover - this is a moving mind (body, heart). This is my practice, to let myself be and then move onto the next moment. Oh, but I am a linger-er! I want to stay in the moment. Of course the sweet moment of eternal peace and tender love - let me stay please!! But so too in the sad, self pity moments, oh man I’m just a confused cry baby and will always be forever!
The river does not stay still, let yourself be moved. You don’t need to force it.
My heart is moving, pumping, pulsing. Moving on from some relationships and into others. This is hard. But I’m moving slowly, with more trust. I am also moving deeper into hearts I have been around for some time. To keep the heart moving is not avoidance or disposal, rather it's letting the heart move into and around the beloveds in front of me. I keep meeting myself and getting to know another layer of me/you/us. A heart in movement is alive, free. It helps to be around other moving hearts - this is how I am learning to dance with love rather than grasp or reject it all together.
I feel a bit sloppy, I’m mixing metaphors. Trains, hula hoops, rivers. Grad school is definitely a train. But the train is in an ecosystem. Even if I jump off the train, I’m still in the river. It’s all movement. I think I am hooping on a train that’s following the bank of the river.
[not a train, but a graffitied abandoned mill in northern Vancouver Island1 . This is a clip from a longer improvisation this summer, in conversation with with energies present and past]
I am going into some kind of portal. The way is movement. Calling upon the loving discipline that I know is within me. Reminding myself that this work - inner, outer, mine, and ours - is connected in ways beyond my current knowing.
with breath,
em
p.s. here’s a late-summer reminder to lay your body down, too.
this Island goes by many other names. It is traditional and present-day land of many indigenous peoples: https://bctlc.ca/land-acknowledgements/
I see train and river movements in your graffiti dance